Tides of Passion
by Lekku Luvr
Summary: After a near death experience, Aayla Secura contemplates and then tests the boundaries of Jedi doctrine against love with Kit Fisto.
1. Reflections on a Kiss

Tides of Passion

Disclaimer: The Star Wars universe and all therein (all the way down to the itsy-bitsy midichlorians) is property of George Lucas. Aayla Secura created by John Ostrander and Jan Duursema. This work of fiction is for entertainment purposes only; no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Notes: This fic is based on the original short story "Tides of Terror" by Milton Freewater, Jr. as featured in the comic magazine "Star Wars Tales" #14. It is also inspired by a now-vanished fanfic of basically the same premise but with an OC replacing Kit (credit would be given if I could actually remember anything more than that). Aayla may also be less than her usual composed self, but it's hard to get your mush on when you're dealing with two upstanding members of the Jedi Order. I'm not a writer, nor do I pretend to be, and this is my first fic of any sort. Please be kind, I have a fragile ego :)

* * *

Chapter 1: Reflections on a Kiss

"Force, this feels so good," Jedi Master Kit Fisto murmured as he stood under the showerhead in his private refresher. He was a Nautolan, and as an amphibious species he was accustomed to operating on both land and water, but he always felt so much better in the latter. Maybe that was why he had volunteered for the assignment here on Kamino to train the new Army of the Republic. And perhaps that was why the Council granted his request. They knew of his aquatic prowess and wisely considered him the best suited for instructing the clones in underwater combat exercises.

The warm water streamed over the Jedi's head tentacles and down his back, washing away the tension of the battle that took place only hours before. One of Sayn Ta's disgruntled technicians had been secretly working for the Separatists to develop and release a nano-virus engineered to kill the Republic's clone soldiers. Had she succeeded, the Republic's defenses would have been crippled; but he and Aayla Secura, a young Twi'lek Jedi who had just joined the Kamino assignment a short time earlier, had uncovered the plot before any significant damage could be done. Their pursuit of the Kaminoan ended in a fierce battle atop a landing platform where the traitor accidentally injected herself with her own virus and killed herself. Thankfully, enough of the virus remained for the cloners to develop a vaccine. It had been a close call. Had they been a few minutes slower, the traitor would have escaped. But it had been a harrowing experience for his fellow Jedi.

The Kaminoan's personal starship was already lifting off by the time they had fought their way through the squad of Super Battle Droids guarding her flank. He managed to disable her craft with a carefully aimed throw of his lightsaber, but as he rolled with the impact of the explosion, he heard Aayla's cry behind him. He turned in time to see the last droid toppling off the platform and taking her with it. He immediately leapt in after her, knowing how deep and tumultuous the water was beneath them and that even Jedi wouldn't be able to hold their breath long enough to fight their way to the surface before drowning.

His superior swimming ability allowed him to catch up to Aayla even as the droid's bulk pulled her like an anchor deeper into the murky depths. Her eyes were filled with alarm, as she apparently had not enough time to fill her lungs before she was pulled beneath the waves. Thankfully, he was able to wrench the droid's manipulator open in short time, but they were already too far beneath the surface. Even if they could swim back at top speed, Aayla's lungs would surely rupture from the rapid change in pressure.

Aayla spoke to him through the Force, telling him she didn't think she would be able to make it, but he told her to calm herself and that he would breath for her. He had pressed his lips to hers and breathed fresh oxygen from his own lungs, taken in through his gills, giving her enough air to sustain herself for the swim up.

Kit's large black eyes narrowed at the memory. Aayla had wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders as he breathed life into her. Clearly, she was not in control of her faculties considering the circumstances so her actions were no fault of her own. Even so, he could still taste the sweetness of her lips and remember the not unpleasant crush of her body against his.

_These are dangerous thoughts_, Kit told himself. Dwelling on such things was not becoming of a Jedi, even for one as unorthodox as himself.

He had been working with Aayla for nearly a month, the training operation established shortly after the Battle of Geonosis. She was a very good Jedi by his estimation: intelligent, knowledgeable about the Force, skilled with a lightsaber, and quite empathic. And personally he found her very engaging, particularly her impish sense of humor. It was a trait that he appreciated though rarely found amongst his fellow Masters. In the past several weeks, he had found himself looking forward to the time they spent together.

_Dangerous thoughts, indeed._

Kit turned into the pulsing water, adjusting the controls so that it struck his yellow-green skin like thousands of tiny needles as he repeated the Jedi Code over and over again in his mind.

_There is no emotion. There is peace..._

* * *

_If only that were so._

Aayla tossed and turned in her bed, unable to even get past the first line of the Code. Her mind was racing, repeating the events on the landing platform over and over again in her brain. She had nearly died a scant few hours ago when that Separatist droid grabbed onto her as the shockwave of the damaged cruiser knocked them off the platform. It had happened so suddenly that she had reflexively cried out to Master Fisto instead of taking in air needed to sustain her beneath the water until she could free herself. Worse yet, she had dropped her lightsaber in the process. And once she was under, panic had set in, despite all of her training. If Master Fisto hadn't dived in after her...

The young Jedi sat up, unable to keep her body from shaking. She went to her refresher and poured herself a glass of water, downing it quickly. Leaning against the counter, she looked up into her mirror.

There was no Jedi serenity about her at the moment. Her lekku were tense and her usually smooth brow was lined with worry. Both those emotions were readily apparent in the pale blue-violet eyes staring back at her. She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face and then smoothing down her Cyrene silk chemise. It was probably the most expensive item in her wardrobe, the rich black fabric of the highest quality and its cut very flattering for her figure. Such an article of clothing was an indulgence, she knew, but even Jedi were allowed the occasional luxury.

She noticed her right wrist was ringed in purple where the Super Battle Droid had clamped its manipulator around it. She rubbed the bruise gingerly as the memory of the droid pulling her into the black water entered her thoughts again, threatening to overwhelm her mind in anxiety. Aayla slowed her breathing and tried to center herself once more.

Unbidden, Aayla's mind brought forth an image of Kit. As they had both been assigned to the Temple on Coruscant, they had met on occasion, but only now had gotten to know each other better. His generally stoic manner, coupled with his reputation as one of the Order's greatest swordmasters, cut him as a rather intimidating figure, almost as intimidating as Master Windu. But here on Kamino, during their conversations that didn't revolve around training the clones, he had shown her another side to his personality. Beneath his self-possessiveness was someone who loved life. He had an easy laugh and appreciated and took pleasure in the smallest of things. She had even learned that he could read Lekku, an ability she'd rarely seen in a non-Twi'lek. She felt drawn to him, intrigued; and at times felt an un-Jedi like giddiness when she was around him.

Her mind's eye shifted again to the image of him cutting through the water to reach her. She remembered vividly how soft his lips felt pressed against hers, how good they felt and how her body instinctively reacted as his strong arms held her safely in his embrace.

Her thoughts disturbed her greatly, but now she knew what it was that plagued her so. It was not the possibility of her death, for she had faced death many times. It was that intimate physical contact and the warm, intoxicating sensations it generated in her that lay at the heart of the matter. She had already attempted meditating but to no avail, and simply trying to sleep it off didn't help, either. She was half a mind to drag her R4 unit out of its recharge socket and practice her moving meditation on it, but it seemed pointless.

_Enough_, she decided, _I'll never be able to sleep until I've dealt with this._ Without a second thought, she wrapped a robe around herself and left her quarters.


	2. The Code

Author's Notes: When doing research for this fic, I read that Twi'leks had multiple stomachs. Now, I don't know how canon this is, but it did make Aayla sound more "alien" so I went with it.

* * *

Chapter Two: The Code

Shortly, Aayla found herself standing in front of Master Fisto's apartment. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. Tentatively, the young Jedi rang the chime.

_Brilliant, Aayla_, her mind reprimanded. _And suppose someone spots you at Master Fisto's door this late in the evening? Can the Council rescind knighthood on the grounds of foolishness? _Quickly, she looked around to make sure no clones or Kaminoan technicians were wandering the halls. Just then, she heard the door slide open. Aayla turned back to find Master Fisto clad in nothing but a towel.

"Oh!" she cried, color suddenly rising to her cheeks. "Master Fisto -- I didn't realize... I'm sorry to have disturbed you..." she stammered. "I'll... I'll just go --"

"It's alright, Aayla," Kit said with a reassuring smile, finding her embarrassment mildly amusing, "I just got out." Tilting his head to one side, his features became more serious. "Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing, Master Fisto..." she replied, trying to avert her eyes from his slick, muscled frame. "It can wait until morning."

"Nonsense, I can feel your anxiety." He turned his body slightly to grant her entrance. "Please, come in."

The young Twi'lek accepted his invitation distractedly. "Thank you, Master Fisto."

"And I thought we had agreed that you would stop calling me 'Master,'" he laughed. "I have never been comfortable with honorific titles." He gestured to the small sofa. "Have a seat. May I offer you something to drink?"

"No thank you… Kit," she replied awkwardly. The tingle in her stomachs began to grow and she fidgeted nervously.

"Very well. Now if you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll go put something on."

Aayla couldn't help but watch Kit as he walked to his bedroom, taking in the broad shoulders beneath his cluster of head tentacles and the way his muscled back tapered down in a v-shape to his trim waist and tight --

_Aayla!_ she screamed at herself. She quickly turned away, focusing on the lamp next to her and desperately trying to find it fascinating. It was only then that she registered the scantiness of her own attire and she turned a deeper shade of red.

_Oh Goddess! Just leave right now, you foolish girl._

As she was about to get up, Kit returned from his bedroom. He was dressed only slightly more modestly than before, a pair of brown linen shorts glimpsed for a second as he tied a dressing robe loosely about himself, his brawny chest still in full view.

"So Aayla, tell me what it is that's troubling you," he said, coming to sit on a small stool opposite her.

The young Jedi didn't know where to begin. What would be the best way to broach the situation without seeming like an adolescent Padawan infatuated with a fellow student? Perhaps the best way would simply be to state it as dispassionately as possible. She looked up, meeting Kit's gentle, unblinking black eyes as he awaited a response.

"I'm having difficulty calming my mind," she found herself saying instead.

"Because of what happened on the platform," he added.

"Yes, Master."

"Kit," he corrected her gently.

A little smile formed on her lips. "Kit."

Kit smiled back. It was good to see her smile; she did have a very pretty one, after all. And it also meant she was beginning to relax. He felt her anxiety lessen slightly, almost imperceptibly, but it was a start.

"I have been trying all the prescribed techniques, but my thoughts are still unruly. I cannot focus." Her smile faded, replaced by a frown.

"It was a trying ordeal, Aayla. I too, found myself dwelling on the events for longer than normal."

Aayla shifted slightly but said nothing.

Kit pursed his lips, his cranial sensors swaying slightly. Something was amiss -- he could sense she wasn't telling the entire truth. Her surface thoughts offered no insight and probing deeper without consent was improper, so Kit chose another avenue.

"In the past," he began slowly, "when I've felt greatly troubled, I've often found meditation with fellow Jedi to be rather beneficial. Perhaps if we meditated together, you would feel more at peace?" he suggested. He waved his hand to an open space of the room, waiting for her to rise off the sofa before proceeding himself to sit on the floor, assuming the classic Repose position. Finding her revealing undergarments inappropriate to mimic his pose, Aayla chose to kneel instead, sitting on her heels, her hands folded in her lap. For several long minutes, they sat there in silence, communing with the Force.

Or at least Master Fisto did.

Aayla could not concentrate any better here than in her own quarters. In fact, she found it even more difficult to do so in the presence of the male who was the source of her anxiety in the first place. She did try her best, however, remembering her lessons and trying to clear her mind of distraction. But every once in awhile she would open her eyes and peek at Kit. _How can he be so calm?_ she wondered. Was he just more disciplined than she was? He was a master, after all.

Contrary to what Aayla was thinking, Kit was having some trouble meditating as well. Although a Jedi Master, he was still a male, and was not unaffected by the sight of the beautiful young female before him. Her skin smelled fresh and lightly scented, as if she'd just completed her evening ablutions, and her sheer robe accented the graceful lines of her body. But even as he pushed away the distracting line of thought and tried to refocus himself, his cranial sensors were picking up hints of her pheromones. The emotions they revealed in her surprised the Nautolan. Surely he must be reading them incorrectly.

"Master... Kit," she said, her soft voice finally breaking the silence. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need to tell you something."

The Nautolan raised his head. "What is it?"

Aayla hesitated, drawing in a breath before proceeding. "It's about what happened earlier. I have not been entirely truthful in telling you why I find myself unsettled tonight." She stopped. An awkward silence filled the room for a moment.

"Yes?" he prompted, his brow furrowing.

The young Twi'lek lowered her gaze. "It's... it's just that... Oh Goddess, this is so difficult to say..." she sighed, her eyes searching the ceiling in frustration, trying to find the words that wouldn't make her seem like a complete fool.

"It's alright, Aayla," Kit reassured her once again. "Go on."

She took another deep breath and exhaled. "When you were giving me air; saving my life…" She paused.

"I… _felt_… something," she added in a voice that was barely a whisper.

"Ah," Kit said softly, nodding his understanding as his suspicions were confirmed. So that was why she seemed so troubled. "Well..." he began, "we cannot escape our feelings, Aayla. We are sentient beings, after all. They are only natural."

Aayla gave a mental sigh of relief, glad that Kit accepted her embarrassed admission seriously and not used it as an opportunity to tease her. "But are not Jedi supposed to be above such emotions?" she asked. "I fear my weakness does a disservice to my masters."

"Do not be overly critical of yourself, Aayla. We are trained to be in control of our emotions, not immune to them. All Jedi are tempted at one point or another."

Aayla's eyes looked up, searching his. "Have you, Kit?"

"Of course."

"And?" she asked expectantly. She leaned forward a hair's breadth and the scent of her perfume wafted through the air. The Nautolan found his gaze shifting for a moment from her eyes to her full, moist lips that were gently parted.

"And I remembered that I was a Jedi."

The young Twi'lek leaned back, her expression approaching hurt. "Oh," she mumbled, reflecting on his words. "Then I merely lack discipline..."

"No... I'm sorry Aayla. I did not mean to be so curt. I only meant that as Jedi, we serve the will of the Force before all else. It is an obligation that supercedes our personal drives. Feelings are a part of life; we acknowledge and learn from them. And there are some emotions that are simply stronger than others. Love, fear, and hate for instance: these are intense feelings. They are passions that cloud our judgment and make our motives confused. We must resolve ourselves to be wary of them, but it is easier to say than do."

"But should we? I mean no disrespect, Master, but should the Jedi completely forswear such emotions? Is not friendship a kind of love? We are taught to be compassionate, but isn't that a kind of love as well?"

Kit sighed. "That is not the issue, Aayla. Attachment is forbidden. Possessive relationships are forbidden. It has always been this way. They speak to what you want rather than what the will of the Force wants; leading to fear and greed and inexorably to the dark side."

Aayla's eyes focused on Kit's. "So merely having those feelings does not necessarily lead down the dark path?"

"No. The dark and light sides are choices, not feelings. Being aware of your emotions is not the same as being controlled by them."

"Exactly!" she exclaimed, her eyes brightening. "Kit," she continued, her voice quickening and rising in intensity with each word. "In my studies, I read of a great Jedi from millennia ago, during the time of Exar Kun. It was his belief that the Order was too restrictive on matters of the heart. That such feelings as love were not contrary to the will of the Force. That passion and love were not the same thing at all. That -- that if one could control one's passions while being in love, for instance..."

"The Bindo Theory, yes," Kit said, cutting her off. "Madame Jocasta Nu is always threatening to erase that particular file..."

"But was it not a rational conclusion? Perhaps if we -- the Jedi, I mean -- would allow ourselves to feel such things but still be open to letting it pass on without regret; surely that would not go against the Order's doctrines?"

"Aayla, the Code is clear on this matter." Her determination troubled him, and his voice took on the appropriate gravity. "Passions, whether they be good or ill, hardly allow for rational thought. Those who have fallen to the dark side thought that they could control their actions only to find themselves forever chained to evil. Passion can twist you, even if you have the best of intentions. That is why we must deny ourselves those emotions."

Aayla frowned for a moment before responding. "But what of unconditional love, Kit? Surely there is no selfishness in that?"

"That may be so, but such love is rare."

"What about Nomi Sunrider?" she asked defiantly.

"Those were different times."

She stood up, her frustration not allowing her to sit still any longer. "But Master Ki-Adi Mundi is married!" she insisted.

"He is Cerean. The Council allowed him to take wives because of the mitigating circumstances of his species."

"But --"

"Jedi Secura," Kit's tone became stern, "be mindful of your temper. Are you not proving to yourself how dangerous such feelings are?"

Aayla looked at him pleadingly. "Kit, didn't you --?"

The young Twi'lek stopped herself, a pained sigh escaping her lips as she turned away from him and stared out the window overlooking the storm-swept ocean. She hugged herself tightly and her lekku snapped back and forth. Kit said nothing, unsure what to do. But in his mind he looked deeper, feeling her through the Force. In it, her aura was as tumultuous as the waters outside Tipoca City. Waves of anxiety and doubt collided with underlying currents of passions Jedi were forbidden.

Her thoughts, as far as he could interpret, were centered on him. It was if she wanted something other than his validation for her feelings.

She seemed so lost, and Kit felt an urge to comfort her, to help ease her distress somehow. Finally, he walked over and stood close behind her. "Aayla... perhaps --"

Without a word, she turned suddenly and kissed him. Truly kissed him. Overcome by surprise, the Jedi Master took several seconds before he regained his senses and pulled away.

"Aayla," Kit started, seeing the longing in her eyes. "I don't think this --"

"Don't think..." she whispered breathlessly as her hands slid up his chest to stroke his cheeks, "feel..."


	3. Choices

Chapter Three: Choices

Aayla's lips gently pressed against Kit's once more as she held his face in her hands; a kiss that was soft yet tinged with nervousness and wonder. His blood warmed as she leaned in closer, feeling her body gently brush against him and he found that his hands had stopped resisting; instead they slowly closed around her waist. In response, he heard a soft pleading whimper escape Aayla's mouth as she opened her lips against his. It was then that all the rationalizing and complexities of his training fell away and the only thing that filled his mind was her.

They broke the kiss, pulling back slightly as they caught their breath. Tentatively, he reached up and brushed her cheek with his fingers. The fringes of doubt lingered in his mind until she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. Taking his hand in hers, she lovingly kissed each webbed digit. He groaned her name while she traced one fingernail along his strong jaw. It skated down his chin, crooking under it to pull his mouth to hers again. This time the kiss was more insistent, more intense from them both as they surrendered to their feelings and held each other tightly. Kit ran his fingertips along one of her lekku experimentally and was rewarded with a sharp gasp and an involuntary shudder that ran through her entire body. Her arched neck granted him access to her delicate throat, so he lowered his head, wanting to taste her further.

Aayla's breath grew more labored as his kisses played across her sensitive skin, and she repressed a tickled laugh when he nuzzled the collar of her robe aside with his nose to expose more of her bare skin to his lips. She sighed, pressing herself harder against Kit, clutching his head in her hands and kissing and running her open lips over his cranial tendrils. She could feel his desire for her, his need for every centimeter of her being as well as hers for his; a lifetime of repressed desires building, threatening to overwhelm them utterly.

She tilted her head further to one side, wordlessly encouraging him to kiss her more. Kit's body ached from the heat of her body and his hearts raced, feeling like they would burst at any moment. His lips traveled further down, meeting the swell of her breast. "Kit..." she breathed. He lifted his head and looked deeply into her eyes.

It was a question. A request. A plea.

Taking her hands, he gently pulled her with him to his bedroom.

Aayla lowered her head demurely while her heart beat faster with every step they took towards his bedchamber. She felt like a child again: shy, yet curious, a thousand conflicting emotions surging through her heart at the thought of this most serious step they were taking. Finding them at the foot of his bed, she looked up to find Kit's eyes swirling with an intensity she'd never seen before, one that made her tremble with its hidden meaning. Kit brought his lips to hers once more and she felt an overwhelming sense of comfort in his touch. Lost in the sensations, she did not think of herself as a Jedi. She was just a female, in the arms of a male, wanting to experience all the pleasures they could bring to each other. Letting him guide her onto his bed, Aayla closed her eyes and as she felt his arms wrap her in a protective embrace, a voice in her head whispered, _I love you..._

* * *

Kit groaned softly as he awoke. Aayla was curled up beside him, her head nestled in the crook of his shoulder while his arm was wrapped gently around her waist. He could feel one of her smooth legs draped across him and a delicate hand resting on his chest, covered by his own. Kit reflected on how natural it felt to have Aayla lying next to him, sharing his bed, as he absently began stroking his thumb across her hand while he looked at her.

Her head-tails lay languidly across the pillow and the bed sheet was pulled up modestly to her chest. Her eyes were closed, long lashes brushing her cheeks, and her lips parted ever so slightly in sleep. She looked so innocent and peaceful, and more beautiful than he had ever seen her.

It was mid-morning, Kit wagered, which meant the clones were undergoing their regular exercise regiment before the scheduled training with the Jedi. Checking the chrono by the bed, he only had about an hour before he had to report to the training center and set up the day's lesson. Enough time for a brief shower and meditation, he decided. But as Kit tried to gently extricate himself from Aayla's embrace, he found his motions only caused her to snuggle closer against him. _A pleasantly awkward dilemma_, he laughed to himself. _Let's see you get yourself out of this one, Jedi._

He lay there for a long moment before deciding a course of action. Wrapping his arms around her, he rolled her gently onto her back, freeing one arm, then the other. Aayla murmured something incoherent in her sleep, reaching out blindly and embracing a pillow instead.

Crawling out of bed, he picked his robe up off the floor, dressed, and walked as stealthily as his training allowed him towards the refresher. But as he did so, he noticed Aayla's feminine scent still clung to him and the pleasant aroma made him stop. _Perhaps the shower can wait. _After setting a pot of water on the small stove, Kit seated himself on the floor of the spartan greeting room and began meditating. He was deep in his contemplation when he felt her presence, a shimmering beacon of light in the Force.

"Kit?"

He turned to see Aayla standing in the bedroom door, only a white sheet wrapped around her. The sight of the silken fabric tracing her every curve as it cascaded down to the floor made his insides stir. He wanted to take her in his arms again, carry her back into the bedroom and lose himself in her body once more.

"Good morning, Aayla," he said warmly. Kit rose to his feet and walked over to the stove. "I made you some tea," he said, offering her a cup.

"Thank you." She sipped the hot liquid and for several minutes they simply sat quietly. In the proverbial "light of the morning," what they had done weighed heavily on both their shoulders and neither seemed eager to broach the subject immediately. Kit decided that as the elder Jedi, he should set the example. Finding the words, he finally gave voice to his thoughts.

"Aayla. Last night..."

She nodded once; her eyes downcast. In her mind she knew what was coming, although her heart still did not wish to hear it. But her head was clearer this morning and she knew her duty. She remembered how out of control she felt last night, how out of control they both had been, and how lost they had become in their feelings. But more so how much more she had wanted, desiring never to let Kit go. Was it true what the Code was warning them of? How easy it was for selfish needs to take over?

"We mustn't allow it to happen again."

Aayla nodded in agreement, knowing the wisdom in his words. Even as she felt the hurt welling up inside her, she allowed herself to let it pass through and away. Still, her heart managed to assert itself briefly. "Do you regret..?" she asked.

Kit shook his head, a small smile forming on his lips. "Not at all, Aayla. I could never regret what we shared with each other. Nor I would I go back and undo what we did." His expression softened as he stood and took the cup from her hand, setting it down on the table before kneeling in front of her and taking her hands in his own. "But we must remember our duty as Jedi. What happened last night cannot happen again."

"I know," she replied softly.

"No matter how much we both may want it," he added.

Aayla looked up into his dark eyes, surprise quickly giving way to understanding and gratitude. "I know," she said again, smiling. "Thank you, Kit."

He nodded. Feeling that was all that needed to be said, Kit busied himself in the kitchen while she returned to his bedroom and dressed. A short time later she emerged in her robe, trailing her fingertips gently across his shoulders as she passed him on the way to the door. Without being asked, he accompanied her the short distance and pressed the keypad. As it cycled open, she turned to him and asked, "But we can be friends, can't we?" Her lekku waved slowly and Kit understood the unspoken question she asked him. He smiled gently.

"I would very much like that, Aayla."

She returned his smile with one that shone like sunlight reflecting off the seas of Glee Anselm. "I'll see you in the training room, Kit," she said. And with that, the door slid shut between them, cutting off a life that could never be.

END


End file.
